Tuesday (Part 1)

I was supposed to hang out with Amy after work but she was sick.

Thought I had rehearsal, but I didn't.

Sent Bette a message to see if she wanted to kill time with me, but she hadn't got back to me.

My evening was clear and it was making me nervous. I rode the elevator away from my office and kept thinking about the box of Chianti on my counter at home and I found my car in the parking garage and drove away from the building and thought about the box of Chianti on my counter.

Drove with the windows down and it was nearly eighty out for the third day in a row and the breeze across my face and the music on the stereo and the life in the city, none of it was the Chianti.

Home.

Empty the things in my pockets into a small pile on the table. Pour a tall glass. Lean against the counter and then everything was okay, or getting closer to it.

Thought about calling Taylor, but didn't. I wasn't sure what to do with that. I was pretty sure I fucked that up somehow and I didn't want to think about it.

Poured another and I headed into the living room and put a record on. I like playing 45's on 33. I used to have a Nirvana 45 that slowed would grind and melt into the absolute sound of doom and adulthood and responsibility and so I had created a habit of it.

Sat on my couch for a minute and Amy sent a message.

"I have a muffin for you. Banana. But I don't know how you'll get it."

Back and forth for a minute and then I decided that since she was sick and I was really into the idea of a banana muffin, I'd drive over and pick it up from her.

It came with a chocolate biscotti also. I hung out for a minute and discussed a numbering system that I had created of people I knew and the strange reason I had to. She laughed.

"Jesus, James," she said.

"I know."

"Don't fuck her."

"Which?"

"Three."

"I'm not going to. I don't know. There's this other thing I'm trying to sort."

"Other thing?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, that's right. The guest."

"Yeah."

"How'd that go?"

"The more I think about it, the more I have no idea. Probably not as well as I thought. "

"Sorry dude."

"C'est la vie." I took a sip from the small plastic flask i had in my pocket and said goodbye and left.

Sunglasses on. Hair a mess. Dirty chucks.. Black t-shirt with a skull made from pictures of cats and cutoff black skinny jean shorts. I walked the half block back to my car and I was looking forward to getting home and eating the muffin. It had been a long time since someone had made something for me and I thought Amy was a good friend to have. I climbed into my car and drove away.

Home.

Poured another and turned the television on. Caught up on a show Sacha had been hounding me about.

Taylor sent me a message.

"Oy vey," she said.

"What are you grumbling about?"

"I just bought box wine and it's all your fault."

"I'm a man who knows what he's doing. Glad it's rubbing off on you."

Back and forth for a bit. The evening was turning to night. I was restless and agitated.

"Thinking about wandering," I said.

"Wandering?"

"Yeah. A walk around town maybe."

She didn't respond. I changed my shirt, filled my pockets, filled a pouch with wine, left my sunglasses on the table. Left the house.

I stood in the driveway for a minute and thought I didn't want to walk at all, I just didn't want to be in the house. I got in the car and drove downtown.